


Beautiful Things

by Rachael Sabotini (wickedwords)



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Early Work, Episode: s01e20 The Eye of the Beholder, M/M, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-09-08
Updated: 2000-09-08
Packaged: 2018-03-13 09:09:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3375893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedwords/pseuds/Rachael%20Sabotini
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duncan's friendship with Gabriel comes with strings attached.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Things

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set during the flashback of "Eye of the Beholder" and includes one teeny-tiny HL:Endgame movie reference. Elynross and Sandy were my lovely editors this time through; I thank them for their kindness. And of course, Killa was the source of inspiration for this.

Paris, 1786

Laden with heat and the smell of sweet French perfume, the air seemed too thick to breathe. The noise of the musicians wasn't quite music, and it competed with the whores' squeals and the sounds of men rutting in pleasure -- carnality defined.

His head felt light, a sign he'd been drinking too much, and Duncan MacLeod pulled himself up off the couch, hoping the movement would steady him. The girl that had been feeding him wine gave him a pretty pout, and he swooped in for one last kiss.

He'd spent little time in whorehouses lately; he had, in fact, begun to feel a bit of a whore himself. His bodyguard status had been reduced to little more than personal valet, and he'd grown tired of being kept, so he had left the very wealthy Helene Le Roux the moment her husband returned home.

Blinking, he focused back on the room, instead of the dancer's breasts. Unfortunately, leaving Helene had left him unemployed with very few coins in his pocket; she had paid him in pleasure, rather than gold. Until he'd run into Gabriel Piton, he couldn't have afforded to pay a whore.

Where was Gabriel, anyway? He spotted his friend across the room, sleeping it off with his head pillowed on the breasts of some sweet young thing. Duncan grabbed a bit of cheese and some biscuits off a nearby plate and nibbled on them, half-walking, half-dancing with the women around him as he made his way to Gabriel's side.

An old acquaintance, Gabriel had been quite impressed by Duncan's tale when Duncan had run into him in Paris the month before. Gabriel prided himself on his ability to make a living off rich women, and Duncan's story fascinated him. "All you lack is a taste for beautiful things." He'd grinned charmingly as he said it, a scoundrel through and through, and the smile had made Duncan laugh; from that, their current partnership had been born.

Popping the last of the biscuits in his mouth, Duncan spied a pitcher of water next to the chaise where Gabriel was sleeping. After that discussion, they'd never been far from each other's pockets. Gabriel was the best of friends, paying for Duncan's new wardrobe, insisting on choosing the cut and colors himself. "Golden tones to accent the skin, Duncan. Always look your best."

He picked up the pitcher and poured a trickle of water on the back of Gabriel's neck, laughing as his friend sputtered awake. If he was honest with himself, he felt somewhat claustrophobic from the amount of time he spent with Gabriel. Particularly when his friend did something like this -- paying for a night of luxury for the two of them with nary a word of explanation. Each gift left him with a nagging sense of expectation and demand, building up a sense of pressure that he had to pay Gabriel back.

Even though Gabriel insisted that he was merely lending Duncan the money until he was back on his feet again, that it was a debt of honor between friends. But like his gambling debts, it weighed on Duncan, and he promised himself that he would pay Gabriel back at the first opportunity.

In the meantime, his life wasn't so bad. He had no wars to fight here, no one relying on him to care for their safety, no men he had to order to die. Just pleasant company and Gabriel's beautiful things.

"So, what are we celebrating?" Duncan asked.

"These." Gabriel stood and fumbled with his coat, pulling out a long stand of pearls, twisting and turning them so they could be admired.

And Duncan did. He stared at them, trying to imagine how much they must have cost. "That's a fine set of pearls."

"None finer. They lay round the neck of a Marquessa." Laughing and smiling, Gabriel led him out of the noisy main room and toward a quieter part of the house. He sniffed at the strand dramatically and sighed. "They still carry her warmth."

Duncan smiled. Gabriel's arm felt good around him as Gabriel guided him out of the room, though it was not something that he would have mentioned to his friend. In another era, or with an older Immortal, he might have mentioned something. But as it was, it was best to be circumspect.

Beyond that, he had no desire for entanglements, and he wasn't sure what the suggestion might do to their friendship. So he played the fool, laughing and joking with Piton, the ready audience for Gabriel's theatrical flair.

Standing in the doorway of the library, Duncan found that the small number of people here left the air fresher, a relief from the heat of the main hall. The party was more lavish than any Duncan had been to in quite a while -- at least one he could attend without having to remain sober and alert. A pat on the back, letting him go, and Duncan had to get in one last shot; the jokes kept them as connected as physically touching one another. Laughing, he leaned forward, teasing Gabriel. "You are a thief and a womanizer."

Still laughing himself, Gabriel was dramatically appalled. He poured them each a drink and handed a glass to Duncan. "A great thief and a great womanizer!" he countered, toasting his abilities, his pride apparent.

It was true, too. Gabriel was the best. They downed their drinks together, the only thing that gave their laughter pause, and set the glasses aside on the nearby tray. Duncan had thrown himself whole-heartedly into the revelry Gabriel offered, despite how the luxuries were paid for, and let himself slide into debauchery and easy ways. He had occasional twinges of conscience, but Gabriel always managed to sooth them away.

Too bad Fitz wasn't here; he would have enjoyed an orgy like this.

Two of the whores giggled, attracting Duncan and Gabriel's attention. Pretty things, the two of 'em. The Marquessa couldn't have awakened from the sleep of the well-satisfied quite yet. Certainly Gabriel and he had time for another round?

He didn't have to say a word; Gabriel seemed to be of a similar mind, grinning his understanding. "You're right. I love women. I can't get enough of 'em." Clothing, jewels, and women -- Gabriel enjoyed perfection. He grabbed the girl closest to him and kissed her, Duncan only a half step behind. "I want to make you happy," Gabriel whispered to the girl, nuzzling her neck, then loudly proclaimed to Duncan and everyone else in the room, "I want to make them all happy."

Duncan laughed, feeling warm at being included in Gabriel's announcement. As his friend wrapped his arm around the white-gowned blonde, Duncan did the same with the brunette, and they all walked, arm around shoulder around waist, into the library.

He wasn't sure which felt better, his arm around Gabriel's shoulder, or the one he had round the girl's waist. Certainly both of the women were accommodating and attractive; Duncan squeezed the girl -- what was her name? Marie? -- enjoying the softness of her flesh. A wistful snip of memory distracted him -- Fitz, with his arm around a girl in a similar setting -- but he pushed it aside. Who knew where Fitzcairn was at the moment, and Gabriel's company was almost as good.

Taller, too. He dropped his arm, feeling awkward.

"How can I do that?" Gabriel was saying earnestly, partly to the girl, partly to Duncan, and partly to the room at large. "I want to please them, Duncan. It's my," he paused dramatically, "only goal in life."

The drunken Scot slung his arm back around the shoulders of his equally drunken friend. "I thought your only goal was stealing their jewels?"

Gabriel nodded and smiled. "That's a secondary objective."

Duncan looked at him, and they both broke out laughing.

* * *

Eventually, they ended up in a bedroom Duncan had not yet visited, one decorated with cherubs and hunting scenes, its curtains and linen a sun-bleached gold. It gave the place a feeling of faded wealth, complete with furniture that had seen better times. It had been beautiful once, but now was worn.

The room was cooler than the hall. A window had been opened, so fresh air poured into the area, driving away the heat and the stink. When the girls complained of chills, both Duncan and Gabriel offered to help warm them -- which left them all in bed together, where laughter quickly turned to lust. Duncan lost no time in making sure that Marie was warm everywhere...and well satisfied.

Drowsy with pleasure, his own need fulfilled, out of the corner of his eye, Duncan caught sight of Gabriel, nipping and sucking at the lips, then breasts, then thighs of the woman he enjoyed. The vision strung Duncan's enjoyment out, coiling in him like rope when water is drawn from a well.

"You are beautiful."

Duncan reared back to tell Gabriel to stop being an idiot; instead, he stared drunkenly at Piton as the realization that his friend was talking to the whore he was caressing settled into his brain. Mesmerized, his interest piqued, he watched Piton's hands knead the white flesh of her breasts.

Big hands. Strong hands. Tanned and rough, a stark contrast to the soft whiteness that he caressed. Long silver-grey hair cascading down a well-muscled back, Gabriel was an attractive man.

An attractive man who liked women, Duncan reminded himself. Not a man who had interest in other men.

"Here, you!" Duncan's head was jerked away from the sight of Gabriel devouring the girl and back to his own whore. He stared at her, too, her lips rouged to an unnatural red, her skin pale with paint, all of it smeared from their exertions. The room smelled of sex and sweat now, adding to the bed linen's stains.

He touched her face softly. Up close, he could see the lines a hard life had written, giving the lie to her purported age. No girl of sixteen here, but someone older, her beauty already fading. "How old are ye?" The words sounded odd to him, echoing faintly in the room.

"Sixteen." She smiled sweetly at him, but he could see the anxiety in her eyes. Fear that he would turn her out and that the Madame might, as well. He smiled gently, reassuring her, knowing the lie for what it was. He should not have asked and would have to find a way to make it up to her.

"They lose their bloom quickly, don't they, Duncan?" Piton's voice made him look over at his friend, who was looking at his own companion critically.

Gabriel never seemed to let a good fuck dull his mind, and there was something in that look that made Duncan feel slightly uncomfortable, more than just the comparison of age. For all Piton's words about loving women and wanting to please them, he seemed more interested in owning them, the way he had wanted to own the Marquessa's necklace. "Ah, Gabriel, she still looks fine ta me."

"Still...." Piton pulled away from the girl, turning to look at Duncan, his skin shining from the sweat of his exertions. He paused, as if something had just occurred to him, and a slightly self-satisfied smile spread across his lips. "It's not the same, is it?"

"As what?

"As one of us," he leaned in close, so the girls could not hear, his voice low and intimate, his breath caressing Duncan's face. "Always beautiful, Duncan. Think of it. A hundred years from now, still as charming as today." He laid his hand on Duncan's cheek, his fingers catching on the day's stubble. "Wouldn't you want to keep something like that forever?"

Duncan shivered. He'd tried to keep Kate forever. He'd married her, and then killed then her to bring on her immortality; he'd never make that mistake again. Some nights, he still remembered the blood on his hands, watching and waiting for her to breathe again. "I don't think I'd like to keep anyone forever." He shifted away from Gabriel and close to Maria, who was staring at the two of them, looking slightly aghast.  
  
His movement drew Gabriel's attention to the two girls. He gestured forcibly at the two women, the way he might send a dog home. "The Madame will pay you from what I gave her."

"Don't be rude ta the ladies."

"They aren't ladies, Duncan. They're whores. We fucked them, and now they should go."

"Gabriel! There's no need ta be impolite."

He looked at Duncan and smiled again, but this time, it didn't quite reach his eyes. The thought that there was something wrong scratched at Duncan's mind, like a dog asking to be let in, but Gabriel's sudden capitulation distracted him. "You are right, Duncan. Of course." Naked, he climbed out of bed, pulled money out of his wallet, and bowed to each of the ladies, kissing their hands and pressing a tip into their palms. "My behavior was appalling, my dears." He held his hand to his chest dramatically. "It was the drink speaking."

Ever the seducer, his charm worked, and the girls giggled at him, pulling their clothes on quickly, taking their money and leaving, shutting the door behind them. On his way back to the bed, Gabriel detoured past the conveniently placed tray of alcohol and poured himself a scotch. He downed it and poured another, taking the bottle and glass with him as he crossed the room. "We are becoming sober," he declared as he crawled in beside Duncan and handed him the glass. "Finish this one off and have another."

The tone was almost an order, but a drink was a drink, and Duncan was happy to have another.

Gabriel focused his attention on Duncan as he drank, gaze drifting across his bare shoulders and chest, down his stomach and back to his eyes, assessing everything, making Duncan feel both excited and yet...repelled. As if he were a load of cotton being weighed for sale.

 **"** Doesn't it attract you, Duncan? The thought of having someone who would be beautiful forever?"

"It did once, aye." Duncan said as he leaned back against the headboard, the two glasses of scotch hitting him simultaneously, making his head reel. He tried to lighten the mood, before he could slide into memory. "But I'm not sure that just one woman would be enough. I have many interests, ya know." He drained his drink, but before he could set down the glass, Gabriel grabbed it.

"Such as...?" Gabriel smiled as he poured another glass and shoved it back at Duncan to drink.

"Gambling. Reading. Chess."

Gabriel looked aghast. "My dear Duncan. I never guessed you were such an educated man."

Duncan grinned. "And she'd have to like to travel. I can't see spending all of my life in one place."

"It sounds like you want a companion more than a lover."

"Sex can be found anywhere, if you ask around."

Gabriel set down the bottle and his glass, watching Duncan intently, his eyes sparkling. "What about a man?"

"What do ya mean?"

"Don't play stupid. It's a fine act to take to the gaming table, but I know you better than that." Gabriel's scooted around, pressing himself to Duncan's thigh; he was hard again, and the feel of his cock prodded Duncan's slumbering sexuality awake. "I've met men I'd spend time with, but few I'd choose to enjoy the way I would a beautiful woman." Gabriel leaned over so his long silver hair spilled around the two of them, curtaining them off, his hand poised over Duncan's half-hard cock. "What about you? You've told me a lot of stories, Duncan. Have you enjoyed a man the way you would a woman?" He slid his hand over Duncan's shaft, a feather-light brush that made Duncan jerk in response.

The drink made Duncan feel bold. "Aye, I have." They each wanted the other; there would be no complications.

Except...something didn't sit quite right. There was something in Gabriel's voice....

He turned to look at Gabriel, examining his features carefully. There was no laughter there now, just anticipation. Warmth spread through him at the look in Gabriel's eyes, and for a moment, Duncan was tempted to reach out and touch him back, to complete the connection. If it had been a woman, or Fitz, he might have, but some... darkness...gave him pause. He became aware of how cold the room was, the curdled scents of sex and perfume, and the way the walls pressed in on him. Expectation hung in the air like a heavy frost, but Duncan wasn't sure--

Gabriel straddled him, his groin to Duncan's, his hands on either side of Duncan's head. He was looking at Duncan as he had the woman earlier, as he had looked at the Marquessa's pearls, raw hunger in his eyes. His earlier generosity became suspect as he pressed himself hard against Duncan's flesh; Gabriel thought it time to collect.

It was time to play the whore in truth. That's what Gabriel expected after all this time. It was time for Duncan to pay, to let himself be seduced.

His cock was hard, brushing against Gabriel's. It wouldn't take much. He could let his legs fall back, or scoot further down on the bed, opening his mouth and taking in Gabriel's shaft. Not exactly an onerous task.

But a moment's pleasure would not be the end of it, he was certain, not from the look in Gabriel's eyes. And Duncan wasn't willing to let himself be owned like that, no matter how much his body thought it a grand idea. He wrapped his hands around Gabriel's wrists, ready to shove the other man off if it came to that. "You have treated me well these past few weeks, Gabriel. You are a very generous man, and I am in your debt." He stared up, meeting Gabriel's eyes with a steady gaze, not willing to give in. "You will have to let me know how I can repay you." He hoped that the finality in his tone made his feelings clear, that he was a man who paid his debts -- but chose his own coin.

The silence that followed his words was almost deadly. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room, leaving a heavy weight pressing against Duncan's chest. He gauged the distance between the bed and their swords. He wasn't sure how Gabriel would react; this was outside of anything that they had discussed so far. He didn't think it would come to blows, and he hoped that this would not shatter their friendship, but he could not let himself be owned.

Particularly not by another Immortal.

Finally, Gabriel pulled away, and Duncan let the other man's hands slide through his own. "Later, perhaps."

Duncan nodded, giving a soft sigh of relief. This had never happened. "Aye."

The mood shifted again, allowing them more space -- and a chance for the tension to ease -- as Gabriel poured them each a final drink. "To pleasant company," he toasted.

"And to the women who give it to us," Duncan replied.

"To beautiful things." They drank, the alcohol soothing away the worst of the edges as they chatted a moment about the women they'd known. On stable ground again, they got up and dressed; they should leave before Piton's Marquessa awakened and missed her fine pearls.

And as they dressed, Duncan worried over whether he'd done the right thing. He'd been reading too much into it, he was sure. Gabriel was a friend, and he was not prone to violence; it was only sex, after all. Maybe the moment of darkness he'd seen had merely been a reflection of his own fear, his own unwillingness to take the passive role.

But if that were true, Duncan told himself as he finished dressing, then time would solve that problem. There would be another opportunity, he was sure. He would have a chance to make it all right.


End file.
